


When I Wake Up

by magicforestboy



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Coming Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Pre-The Raven King
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicforestboy/pseuds/magicforestboy
Summary: Ronan needs a very particular favour from Adam in order to appease everyone's favourite baby brother. (Side effects of this may include a whole lot of cuteness...)





	1. It's Matthew('s Fault)

“It’s Matthew.” Ronan scratched at the top of his shaved head, eyes darting  any place that weren’t Adam’s own.

He was, quite frankly, under duress. It wasn’t exactly a look he was known for (vulnerability in general was not something he was known for), and it was this that shot Adam out of his chair immediately.

His back cracked uncomfortably but he forced himself to step closer. “What’s up with Matthew? Is everything okay?” 

Ronan slumped down the wall, melting his face into his hands. Adam thought he could see him chewing on the leather bands as he sighed audibly. Did every conversation with Ronan have to be information _extraction_?  _Does he have to make this so hard?_

“Is he-” before he could resolutely repeat his question, Ronan’s uneasy squint shifted into a glare.

“Yeah, yeah, he’s in good health and spirits, the lovely little fucker.”

Adam shook his head, fighting the urge to shove Ronan back out the door.

“Alright,” he lowered himself again to his rickety wooden chair. It was the chair that, coincidentally, he and Ronan had found lying on the edge of the road the week before. It was a bit wobbly and certainly scratched along the sides but one hundred times better than the box he’d been using before nonetheless. He returned to scrawling Latin verbs. _If Ronan doesn’t want to tell me, he can sit there and stew by himself. So be it._

Soon, he heard a muffled movement behind him as Ronan peeled himself off the floor to plop back down just slightly to Adam’s right. He let his annoyance deflate, if only minutely, at this gesture. He couldn't say it wasn't thoughtful.

“I might’ve dragged us into something.”

Adam huffed out a wispy breath of a laugh. “Of course you did, Lynch.”

A cough sputtered from Ronan’s throat before he continued. “So Matthew’s been bugging the shit out of me to hang out. And before you go ahead and state the fucking obvious like, oh, that sounds like a hell of a grand ol’ time, he doesn’t want it to be just us. Because he’s bringing his new girlfriend along. And he’s insisted, for several weeks now, that it be a double date, because how much extra fucking fun would that be.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say a sentence that long in my life,” Adam didn’t look up from his paper as he added, “and I’m a bit lost on how this involves me, Ro.”

The stare weighed heavy on his back until Adam turned to meet his dark and heavy gaze. Ronan nearly winced when he saw the realization eclipse Adam’s lips with a thin purse, the set of his eyes unreadable.

“Are you fucking with me?”

Ronan barked a laugh, entirely without humour. “Do I look like I am?”

“Nearly always, Lynch,” Adam crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s taken some careful research but I’ve concluded that it’s just how your face looks, actually.”

Ronan squinted, entirely without heat. The way Adam’s freckles glowed in the mid-afternoon light gleaming from the one tiny window…this was what captured the most part of Ronan’s present attention, to say the least.

“Why me?” Adam asked, almost pulling off a conversational tone.

Nearly wincing again, Ronan shot back, “First name that came to my head, Parrish.”

“How lucky.”

“I-” Ronan collapsed his hands into fists. “You don’t actually have to, you know.”

Adam raised his eyebrow. “That’s as close to an apology as I’m going to get, isn’t it?”

His stomach twisting with the discomfort of the situation, Ronan shifted into a crossed-arm position, a parallel to Adam. “I’m sorry for dragging you into my pathetic family dramas where my brother wants to play happy fam for once-”

“Hey.”

Ronan let his words drop, watching Adam crack his knuckles above four textbooks on his desk.

Voice utterly flat, he muttered, “what.”

“I’ll do it.”

This time, Ronan’s eyebrows shot up. “You- you what?” 

“I said I’ll do it.” Adam closed his Latin notebook and turned in his chair to face Ronan head-on.  “If it’ll make Matthew happy, why not?”

Ronan bit the inside of his cheek from the flurry of emotions this response brought. Both ecstasy and disappointment were tasted in equal measure to blood.

He settled his expression into something that resembled a cool balance between indifference and gratefulness. “He’d be over the fucking moon.”


	2. Blue is the Opposite of blue

Blue wouldn’t stop giggling whenever she peered over at Adam.

He was seated by himself in the red booth, having hauled a couple textbooks there after his shift at Boyd’s. And it _might’ve_ been productive, too, if it weren’t for that meddling _Blue_. She cracked up even louder each time her glance fell upon him, even worse than when he first arrived.

“Holy shit!” was her exact, word-for-word exclamation when Adam recounted the earlier events to her. “Ronan _did_ that? Ronan did that. Wow.”

Adam shook his head, both then and now. He had asked her quite honestly, “Blue? Excuse my very Ronan-like language here, but, what the actual fuck does that even mean?” And this was the precise moment her giggle fits began. Even as she served straggling customers coming in for some near-midnight pizza, she had to bite down her lip in a way that made Adam wince.

When it looked like he wasn’t going to get any explanation or advice out of her -and certainly no more calculus problems were being completed – he stuffed his things in his bag. After shooting her a quick wave – causing her to double over again – he was out the door. _What a weird day_. _Was it that funny for them to be in this situation in order to give Matthew some of the consistency he deserved? It seems reasonable to me._ Adam unlocked the bike from the rack and sped off into the twilight towards the church.

 

***

 

Back at Nino’s, Blue’s shift ended, and she had little patience left. She wiped her greasy hands on her apron and then tugged her four ponytails tighter before pulling out her cell.

“Ronan…pick up for _once_ in your life.”

He didn’t. Not the first time. Nor the fourth. And sure, Blue’s phone was pretty new, and it’s not exactly like she expected him to give her special treatment. But it sure would’ve been _nice_.

She settled for texting instead. At least this way he’d receive it.

WELL DONE LYNCH.

Just as she slipped it back into her pocket, she was shocked with an instant buzz.

 **what are you talking about maggot**.

Blue grinned wide. She typed: YOU FINALLY DID IT! UNDER FALSE PRETENSES I GUESS BUT STILL!

**??**

ADAM? DATE? RING ANY BELLS?

**ring any fuck offs?  
**

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

**shut the fuck up im deleting your number**

(: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: YOU WOULDN’T! anyways i’M PROUD OF U ByE

She was also particularly proud of that last text, thinking it would receive great approval from Noah. He was always blathering on about emojis and smiley faces to her; it was about time she gave them a try on Ronan.

The thing was…she and Ronan hadn’t specifically spoken about his whole…affinity?...for their dear Adam Parrish. But she did pride herself in knowing her friends well, and reading their energy in her own, not-quite psychic way. And she picked up a very specific energy from Ronan when Adam was around, which was distinctly different from his regular energy (which was already – don’t mention it to him – quite soft and warm underneath the hardened shell). Around Adam, there was a greenish aura that quite literally reminded Blue of Adam’s eyes, and the forest they were both bonded to.

Ronan was, as far as Blue could tell, branch over roots for the other boy. And Adam, despite being the most intelligent human Blue had met, was rendered almost absolutely clueless about it.

On that thought, Blue biked herself home too, a giant grin still glued to her face.


	3. Ronan Takes a Survey (The Results Are In!)

Monmouth Manufacturing came into view quickly as Ronan pulled up. He let the car stall for a minute before ripping his key from its place, stomping out of the BMW, and shoving his phone deeper into his pocket.

_What does Blue know?_ The thought was accompanied by a much louder: _Blue_ knows. Which was also tagged along by a: _how the hell could she_ not _know, though_? And then a final: _I mean, I do have some self-respect to hide it…Don’t I?_

_Damn it_.

The only possible way to settle this unsettling whorl of mind fuckery, he decided, was to put it to a survey. He shrugged his shoulders, allowing the leather jacket to better hug his angles as he shut the door behind him, and made for Gansey’s room.

Sure, it was two-thirty in the morning by now. Sure, this was going to be a very small sample size. But Ronan would take what he could get before his nerve fizzled out.

When Ronan stepped into the door frame, he saw that Gansey was constructing the church. In his tiny Henrietta, that is. Ronan squinted down at it, almost expecting some teeny Adam Parrish Polly Pocket or some shit to pop out the side. Good segue or what? Nah, probably not the best way to punch the topic into Gansey’s brain...

Ronan, instead, stilled himself by leaning on the doorway, trying his darn hardest not to imagine how he could very easily dream up an Adam Parrish Polly Pocket with the dusty hair and the freckles and the worn t-shirts and-

“Yes Ronan?” Gansey pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and blinked drowsily.

“Dick.”

Gansey took this in stride as per usual, all the while sticking a tiny paintbrush on a tinier window. “Is there something you’d like?”

“Question for you, Dick.”

Wiping his hands on his plaid pants, he nodded up to Ronan. “Of course, go on ahead.”

He hadn’t really thought this far. _How does you even ask a question like this?_ His eyes flitted to the ground.

“Ronan?”

“What’s something about me that I’ve never told you but you’ve figured out?”

“Hm.” Gansey crossed his legs and placed his chin in his palm. He shut his eyes briefly, as he often did when he was pondering how to word something. Blinking back up, he said, “Are we discussing your sexuality here, Ronan?”

Through a grit of teeth, Ronan rolled his eyes sharply. “Sure, Gansey, humour me.”

“Well. You’re gay? Is that what you want me to guess at?”

Ronan sniped, “A wonderful observation.”

Gansey seemed to take this as a compliment, rolling his shoulders back. “I just do my best with what little you share, Ronan. That’s all.”

“What tipped you off?”

“I…” _Here it is_. “I’d say the fashion in which you evade conversations about women is a tip-off.”

“Uh-huh,” Ronan waved his hands, as if to prod his best friend for more evidence.

“Um…” Gansey scrunches his nose slightly.

“Get it out, Dick.” Ronan chuckled at his own joke for a moment before settling his gaze back on Gansey, who was biting his lip softly. “Seriously. What else?”

“Well.”

Ronan was _this_ close to storming the room in a fit of Latin curse words. “Yes?”

“Kavinski?”

Ronan groaned and threw his hands in the air, walking out of the room. _Is Gansey just taking the piss_?

He wasn’t sure if that warranted relief or the frustration his scrunched up forehead showcased.

After a brief moment of total house silence, he heard Gansey call out. “Was this some sort of test?”

And then, “Did I pass?”

And then, after another few moments of silence that pierced the pounding in Ronan’s head, “Was this some sort of Adam inspired event?”

And _then_ (!)…a much quieter, “Ah…I should’ve started with that. Hm. How silly of me.”

Ronan groaned and grimaced into his face palm.

 

***

 

When Noah appeared at about 3 am, Ronan asked it outright.

“Czerny.”

“Yeppers?”

“Do I...fuck...do I have a shitty ass crush on someone?” It flamed his cheeks angrily to say it like this, but it was also _Noah_. They’d all had a bet going that he could read their minds anyways.

Noah smiled sheepishly. But the smile quickly turned to a wary straight line. “Am I going to get kicked out the window again if I say it?”

“No, shit bag.”

“Well, then. Yeah!” Noah twirled around in place. “Of course you do.”

“Who?”

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

Ronan’s jaw dropped and Noah keeled over instantaneously from laughter.

“God! You should see your face! Of course I know it’s ADAM!”

 

***

 

Before Ronan could smother his face into his pillow, another text came through. An extended groan made its way out his mouth, expecting it to be Sargent with another string of emojis like :) ;) ;) ;) :*) <3

It was just Noah though.

_numero uno: you stare at him all the way across the room like he is a GOD…_

Ronan chucked the phone across the room instantly before he could read any more. _This is going to be a long-ass night._


	4. A Shopping Trip (for Some Dreamy Date Items!)

Ronan tossed himself into a fitful sleep. Was he more transparent than he thought? _Does Adam know_? But if he did… why would he agree to such a stupid ‘date’?

The questions melded themselves right into the trees speaking improper Latin, and in between his dreams and his bursting into wakefulness, he was most definitely tugging objects back with him. It was the _nerves, man._

In the longest of these dizzy sequences in dreamland, he wasn’t in the forest at all. Orphan Girl was still there. But more notably, Dream Adam appeared when Ronan took attendance with his once-over eyes. Well, twice over for Adam. Actually, no… once over, because they never really leave.

Dream Adam led him through a small shop of gold and silver trinkets, flowers, and teensy wrapped candies. It wasn’t like any other dreamscape he’d ever visited. And it was clearly suited to his and his friends’ own preferences.

There was an aisle for Gansey, filled with Epi-pens and bottles of medicine and leather-bound journals and crown replicas. The next aisle was Noah’s, filled with colourful hats, skateboards, and any toy that had sparkles. Blue’s aisle was by far the most random; its shelves were overflowed with animal brooches and polka dot fabrics, with the occasional knick knack (i.e., a wooden baby raccoon with a top hat) she’d probably love inside her room.

And then there was Adam’s row along the far wall, stocked to the brim.  Immediately, several things caught Ronan’s eye. Most of all, there were books and there were plants and there were thoughtfully useless things that Adam wouldn’t have any trouble accepting. Things like piles of mixtapes and CDs, dictionaries that could read your mind, and actual factual mood rings.

“Now _this_ is a store.”

*** 

“RONAN!”

Ronan came to at the sound of Noah’s voice, hovering above his head. He startled, hitting his forearm on the head board.

“Fuck, Noah! What?”

“What,” Noah spat, as Ronan sat up and rubbed his eyes angrily, “is all of this _stuff_?”

Pushing Noah off the bed with a groan, Ronan glared around his room. Truthfully, calling it _stuff_ was the softest way to put it. Surrounding him on his mattress-island was an ocean of dream gifts…all of them clearly intended for Adam Parrish.

“Have you ever pulled out this many random…” Noah trailed off, scooping up a robot puppy in his arms. It rolled over and barked affectionately, causing Noah to grin stupidly. “Ah! Can I keep him?”

“Shit. Yes. Take it. Just,” Ronan shook his head, gritting his teeth. _God, if Noah hadn’t been sure before… this is more than enough fucking proof._ “Get out.”

Noah rolled his eyes, but his smile shook out any disdain. “Whatever, Ro! I have a true friend now.”

He raised the dog high above his head and, for lack of a better word, swam through the miscellaneous object sea until he reached a dry spot by the door. Since he was Noah, he closed it softly.

Before Ronan had any time to properly survey the mess - and find the proper curse word to accurately describe the amount of dismay he felt deep within his heart - Noah popped his head right back in the doorway.

“I think you might,” Noah brought the puppy close to his face with a pout, quite like a shield, “want to rethink the kicking me out thing, actually.”

“Um. No. Leave.”

“Um. _Well_. Adam’s coming over? In like…any minute.”

Ronan scratched his fingers along his thigh. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Nope. And I think you could probably use some help.”

“Aren’t you supposed to… _not_ see the other person before a date?”

“I believe, dear Ronan, that you are describing weddings. And if so - oh my gosh, can I be the best man?”

“First of all. No, you can’t. Because you’re a ghost and the fucking priest or whatever wouldn’t be able to see- hm, actually, that sounds like just the kind of shit I would pull. Sure, man. At our fake wedding, you can be my fake best man.”

"Yasssss!”

Ronan stood up on the bed, tugging at his leather bands. “But only if you help me chuck this shit off the roof or something.”

“Or we can put it in the closet along with your feelings for him.”

“Shut the actual fuck up.”

“No, seriously, there might be some good things in here. Wedding presents I could pass as my own. First date presents?”

“He’d kill me.”

“You’re the one who said it was useless enough that he’d take it.”

“…I…no. Stop creeping around in my head, it’s fucking weird.”

Noah shrugged innocently and Ronan flipped him off before scooping as much dream stuff into his arms as he possibly could. After setting his puppy (“There you go, Gerald. Be good.”) on the middle of Ronan’s bed, he plunged into the mess as well.

Most of the things fit somewhere in the nooks and crannies of his room. Some of it went into Noah’s, under his bed, and in his largely abandoned wardrobe.

With just a (literal) handful of things left in their arms, they jumped at the noise of knocking. Distinctly Adam’s knocking, Ronan knew; the pattern was a strong four thumps that always rung out equally.

“Adam!” They heard Gansey cry. “What a surprise!”

It was this moment that a small music box in Noah’s hands began to let out an alternate version of the Murder Squash song consisting of Adam’s name.

“ _ADAM ONE. PARRISH TWO_.”

Noah stared up in shock at Ronan, who immediately shoved the window open and tossed all the rest of the stuff out of it with a smash.

Adam and Gansey sprinted into the room immediately, giving them both only enough time to turn back around and stare at robo-dog.

“ _Bad_ , Gerald,” Noah muttered, pointing at his nose. “Only Ronan can throw things out windows.”

Gansey shrugged at Adam apologetically. “As you can see, things at Monmouth have been rather strange over the past 24 hours. Just last night, actually, Ronan was asking us all about-“  
  
“Cheese.”

Gansey shot him a curious look, but noticing the glare in his eyes and the laughter deeply seated in Noah’s, he settled on, “Indeed! Cheese. We were thinking of having a forest picnic, maybe Sunday. And he was asking us if we thought he could create new cheeses in his dreams. How strange would that be?”

Adam was looking back and forth between all of them. But he too, somewhat surprisingly, settled with this. His eyes glimmered when they met Ronan’s, whose heart beat felt like the favourite tree of a woodpecker. “Well I, for one, would love to try dream cheese.”

As they all made their way slowly back into the living area, Noah whispered to Ronan. “All of the work you put into those things… and all Adam wants is a nice block of cheese to woo him.”

“I will take Gerald away from you if you say one more fucking thing.”

“Not if you want a dog-sitter when you go on your date later tonight!”

Noah winked and ran past Adam and Gansey before Ronan could hit his arm. _These assholes are going to be the fucking death of me._


	5. The Gang At Breakfast Time

“So,” Adam lifted a silver mug to his lips but didn’t sip. “Where’d the cyborg puppy come from?”

Ronan scoffed, lifting his feet to rest on the table they sat at. “Tsk, tsk, Parrish. Thought you were smarter than that.”

Adam shrugged. “If you can handle AI pets, I’m sure you can manage novelty dairy products, Lynch.”

“Especially ‘cause you’re a farmer,” Noah smirked.

“My question,” Adam set his mug down on Gansey’s favourite Glendower-themed coaster, “if _you’re_ smart enough to understand _context_ , is what corner of Ronan Lynch’s mind exactly believed the world –or Noah- required a robot dog?”

Noah grinned. “Actually, the dog was for-”

“Fuck you, Parrish, Noah _is_ the world,” Ronan spat before Noah could finish.

“Aw!” Noah patted his shaved head once, knowing any further action would get him swatted away. He returned to petting Gerald immediately. “You _do_ have a heart.”

“Speaking of hearts,” Adam coughed softly as he met Ronan’s eyes and locked on tight. “Can I talk to you? Alone?”

“Something Gansey’s virgin ears can’t handle, Parrish?”

“Well. Have you _told_ them?”

Gansey clasped his hands together over the table, giving Ronan another one of his curious looks. “Told us what, precisely?”

 A silence fell thickly over the four of them.

Noah threw his hands up in the air, startling Gerald into a fit of barks. “Oh, for crying out loud. Matthew was bugging Ronan to go on a double date. Ronan _enlisted_ Adam. They’re insisting it’s _fake_. Etcetera.”

 Gansey’s throat let out a noise of surprise.

“It _is_ fake, for god’s sakes.” Ronan pushed himself up from his chair and headed to the door, shrugging his leather jacket on along the way. “I’ll pick you up after work, Parrish. 7. It’s just a movie so don’t fucking freak out.”

Before he could hear if Adam responded, he slammed the door and launched himself into his car.

***

 He pulled up to the psychic hell-hole before he could regret it. _Might as well get out now._

“Blueeeee! It’s Snakey!” Ronan growled at Calla, which wasn’t a surprise, right as Blue fumbled down the steps. Calla looked him over with an air of curiosity. “And god does he _really_ need some help. Your dream well is practically dry, now.”

Slinking away from them, Calla returned to the kitchen.

“What does she mean by that?” They sit down in the reading room, on a ratty green couch. “And…why are you here, you never come here…”

“Ugh, fuck, Sargent. The… ‘date’ is tonight.”

She clapped her hands together. “Ah, yes, right. So you need help in the romance department.”

“Right, meaning I’m clearly in the wrong place, maggot. What experience do _you_ have?”

Shuffling a stray pack of tarot cards, she scoffed. “Please, I don’t need much experience to lend _you_ help. You’re an absolute mess.”

Before Ronan’s glare could turn into some kind of insult in his mouth, Blue added, “What did Calla mean about your dream well being dry?”

“I woke up fucking swallowed by a sea of gifts practically addressed to Parrish. Happy now?”

Her squeal of laughter could probably be heard by the neighbours, causing Ronan to punch her arm.

“Okay. Like I said, man, you’re a hot mess.”

Ronan’s face is streaked with red, a clear mixture of both anger and embarrassment. The leather bands on his wrist look like a beaver had been using them as a snack.

“I just- what do I do? I should never have fucking asked him.”

She traded the tarot cards for a cup of yogurt that sat on the table, scooping strawberry chunks in her mouth. “Look, Ronan. Adam likes you too. It’s obvious, bro. Seriously.

“He liked _you_ , Sargent. He clearly has a type that isn’t a shit inch close to what I am.”

Blue glared at him over her yogurt and before she could open her mouth, Maura wandered through the room. “You’re quite similar, actually,” she said, winking, before she left again.

Ronan threw his hands up in the air. “Does everyone in this fucking city know that I’m in love with a clueless idiot?”

“Ronan, you came to a house of psychics, I’m not sure what you expected.”

Ronan crossed his arms over his chest, leaning into the arm of the couch. _I shouldn’t have come here._

“Look. You’re going to put on your nicest black jeans and that other browner leather jacket, because Adam’s always staring at you in it, and you’re going to comfort your favourite brother with some displays of affection. You’re going to hold your boy’s fucking hand! And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell him how you feel, for god’s sake!”

Ronan swallowed and gave her the finger.

Blue seemed content enough with this response, returning the gesture and then shrugging to the kitchen. “Want some yogurt?”

“…Anything with blueberry and a cure to a shit nervous stomach?”

They disappeared into the kitchen, and Ronan lingered there for the rest of the afternoon.

_Maybe it's so bad here after all._


	6. Q & A(dam)

Ronan stared at the neon OPEN sign above the door at Boyd’s. He had somehow managed to shrug on the outfit Blue suggested (black jeans, brown leather jacket) and after some restless foot tapping and chucking treats in the air for Chainsaw, he decided he might as well just… _go_.

It was 6:40. He knew that Adam was inside, just finishing up. Probably in those coveralls and a slightly dirtied face, eyes shining underneath, gorgeous knuckles covered in proof of his skill.   _Fuck it._

He slammed the door and walked in to the shop. Spotting Adam’s legs almost instantly, he sauntered over and tapped his foot against Adam’s left knee.

Adam didn’t even get out from under the car; Ronan could still hear his wrench turning. “I thought you said after work.”

“You’re done in a minute, man. What does it matter?”

As he says this, the wrench clanged against the ground. Adam wheeled out to face him. Sweat gleamed on his forehead, practically sparkling in the light. “I just…I need to change, still.”

Ronan snorted, turning his face away. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your grease stains before, Parrish.” He had a thought to add: you could wear nothing for all I care. But, hold on, that wouldn’t sound quite right, would it? _Doesn’t make it any less true_.

“It’s a theatre,” Adam kneeled, placing his tools away. “I think they have a bit more self-respect than you do.”

“Ouch. Got me right in the heart with that one.” Adam’s stare was still pointed, though, so he threw his hands up. “Fine. I’ll give you a ride back and wait for your slow ass.”

“Uh-huh. So…” Adam looked down at his hands. Seamlessly, Ronan followed his gaze-line, taking in the way that he turned them over. They, too, were covered in grease and callous. But, frankly, it made them all the more interesting to look at. Magician’s hands should be strong and gripping…and graceful and tantalizing- you know… all the sorts of things a magician should be. _All the things Adam_ is _._ “You told Matthew we’re dating. Right?”

_I’d tell everyone._ Ronan met Adam’s eyes again. “Haven’t we been over this already?” _Or maybe I’d keep it all to myself… I haven’t decided yet._

Adam took a rag to his hands, methodically wiping them down. “Well. There’s a difference between being your date to a movie and dating. As in, for a while.”

“Second one. As if that were possible.” _Because you’d never return my damn feelings._ It took Ronan a beat to realize he shared part of that thought aloud. He bit his tongue, watching Adam’s face turn sour, slightly scrunching his nose.

“Right. Impossible. Why would you ever go on an actual date with me?” His laugh rung out flat in the open space.

He nearly had the mind to say nothing. Instead, he burst out, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Adam’s glance turned into a glare.

Ronan wished they weren’t having this conversation, and turned to fiddle with a hammer. “This isn’t a pity party, okay? That doesn’t even make sense, Parrish.” He paused, feeling the cold metal against his thumb. “You’re fucking straight.”

“Where did you get that idea?”

Scoffing, Ronan tapped the hammer against a small metal box. “Um. No idea. Your undying interest in _women_ , maybe? Ring any bells?"

“Oh my god,” Adam tossed the oil rag into the trash, straightening his posture. The anger dissolved from his face, though, when he saw the serious set of Ronan’s eyebrows. He barked a laugh. “You’re serious?”

With a bit of effort, Ronan held Adam’s gaze. “Do I look like I’m not?”

Adam took a single step closer to Ronan, causing him to bump into the wall behind them both. Ronan’s mouth went dry in a second, and he could feel his heart ram against his ribcage to a song he swore Adam would hear and instantly understand the deeper meaning. In a whisper that caused Ronan the smallest of suppressed shivers, Adam leaned into Ronan’s ear. “Did it ever occur to you… that I could like _both_?”

With that, he peeled himself away from the other boy, and walked out of the shop towards the BMW, bike in hand.

_?!?!?_ Ronan scrunched his hands into fists, restraining himself from screaming. Of what emotion, however, he wasn’t yet sure. Releasing his fingers, he followed Adam to the car, avoiding eye contact at all measure. He let out his shiver instead.

** 

_What the fuck was that?_ “So.” Ronan rolled the window up, backing the car out of the lot. _What the fuck did that_ mean _?_

Adam hit the NEXT button on the radio until he stumbled across a song he liked. It was soft and slow, with a lot of acoustic guitar. “So.”

“You’re bi then?” It wasn’t like he thought Adam was lying. Or that it could mean anything else. It _had_ to mean that, right?But he had to make sure.

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

“What? You expect me to ask you about boys or some shit? As I’m taking you out? How _ungrateful_.”

_Thank the angels_ , Adam laughed at this, resting his head softly against the window. “You’re such an ass.”

Not knowing what possessed him, Ronan blurted, “I think you meant to say I _have_ such an ass.”

“I mean. That’s definitely not untrue.”

Ronan nearly squawked like Chainsaw. “Save it for the second date at least, Parrish. _Heavens_.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you just tell me we’re claiming that we’ve been dating for at least a few months?”

“Tou-fucking-che.”

“So.”

“So _what_ , Parrish.” Maybe he should regret this after all. _Had he even put on deodorant?_ Blue hadn’t reminded him to do any of that shit. Then again, he hadn’t expected an interrogation.

“What’s the rest of our story? What kinds of things are we going to do?”

Ronan puffed out a frustrated breath. The thought ‘ _does this boy ever not ask questions?’_ warred with _‘there are so many things I’d like to do with you, if you wanted to.’_ “Who cares? Matthew doesn’t give a shit about that.”

“It’s Matthew, Ronan,” he could practically hear Adam’s mind working over-time, searching for holes in their flimsy plan, “That’s exactly the kind of shit he cares about. He’s a _romantic_.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me."

“Can I remind you that he came from inside your own brain?”

“I wasn’t even five!”

Adam had a grin on his face, and Ronan didn’t even have to see him to know it. He could hear it in the lilt of his Virginia accent. He seemed to hide it less from Ronan these days, as if he knew it sent fucking tingles down his neck. “So five year old you was a romantic?”  
  
He thinks of a hundred responses to that one: _isn’t every five year old_? _Why, you think I’d be a better date at five than now_? _What’s it to you, Parrish_? He pulled into the church parking lot, stalling the car before ripping the key out.

Almost saying nothing, he settled on, “Five year old me didn’t know anything about romance.”

Ronan got out of the car, slinking up the stairs to Adam’s apartment.

When Adam caught up to him, unlocking the door ever so slowly, he just about whispered, “And what about now? What do you know about romance now?”

Ronan watched Adam as he entered the door. Looked at the way his dirty blonde hair, with the slightest of tiny curls, wavered from the short rush of air. Let the atmosphere and the smell that was so clearly Adam’s apartment wash over him. What does he know of romance now? Only the want of it. Only this feeling, right here, suspended in this moment. Only the light brushes of their arms when no one else cares to look at them.  

Adam turned back, noticing the stilted silence. Ronan forced himself to shrug, rolling his eyes. “Just fucking get dressed, Parrish.”

_What do I know of romance?_ He swallowed hard as Adam disappeared into the bathroom. _I only know romance in my dreams, Adam. Only ever in my dreams._

Through the thin walls, Ronan could hear Adam’s gentle humming. _Love, though…_


End file.
